Wake Up
by MetallicMistress79
Summary: Amnesia-stricken, wounded, frightened, alone:this is your condition when Malik find you curled up and unconcious in an alley. Now in his service, the love and loyalty which binds you clashes with the hurt, hate, & a Sennen Item that is driving you insane.
1. Leave Me Alone

----Disclaimer----If I owned Yu-Gi-Oh!, "Wake Up" by Three Days Grace, and you, then I would both rich, and a slave owner. Nope. I am neither.----  
  
Me: Hehe.^__^ Hello again! My second CYOA....maybe I should actually concentrate on finishing "I Hate Everything About You" before shooting this out at everybody.....Nah!  
  
Malik: Oh, crap......now I'M stuck with you?! O___O  
  
Me: Yup~~! *I glompies*  
  
Malik: *thwacks me with the flat side of his Sennen Rod*  
  
Me: *I rub my head as I type, pouting at the blonde Egyptian* Trust me to fall for another sadistic with a sharp object.......  
  
Malik: Besides the fact that I gotta spend every authoress's note with you, you're going to make me love *he spits the word love out like it's bad fruit or something*.......and the reader, no less!  
  
Me: Bwahahaha! Please enjoy, minna-san! ^-^ Oh! By the way, though this story has "CYOA" in its title, I doubt it will have choices. I just put it there so it could be easily identifiable. ^_~  
  
***  
  
I'm not sober all the time  
  
But you bring me down, at least you try  
  
Until we see this eye to eye  
  
I don't want you  
  
I must be running out of luck  
  
'Cause you're just not drunk enough to f***k  
  
And now I've had it up to here and I don't  
  
I don't want you  
  
It took so long to see  
  
You walked away from me  
  
When I need you  
  
Wake up, I'm pounding on the door  
  
I'm not the man I was before  
  
Where the hell are you when I need you?  
  
Wake up, I'm pounding on the door  
  
I won't hurt you anymore  
  
Where the hell are you when I need you?  
  
I'm not angry all the time  
  
But you push me down, at least you try  
  
Until we see this eye to eye  
  
I don't want you  
  
It took so long to see  
  
You walked away from me  
  
When I need you  
  
Wake up, I'm pounding on the door  
  
I'm not the man I was before  
  
Where the hell are you when I need you?  
  
Wake up, I'm pounding on the door  
  
I won't hurt you anymore  
  
Where the hell are you when I need you?  
  
It took so long to see  
  
You walked away from me  
  
When I need you  
  
Wake up, I'm pounding on the door  
  
I'm not the man I was before  
  
Where the hell are you when I need you?  
  
Wake up, I'm pounding on the door  
  
I won't hurt you anymore  
  
Where the hell are you when I need you?  
  
Plish, plash.  
  
Your footsteps were muffled by the muddy puddles beneath them, the boots falling heavily into the water-filled potholes. Your breath came in labored pants, ragged and forced against the ripping stitch erupting in your lower abdomen. Your lungs were screaming, the sensation of having little or no air was clawing at your torso like a rabid beast.  
  
You had to keep running.......or they.......would get you.(Why??? What did I do?) You had to keep running.......  
  
The numerous cries and shouts of your persuers sounded constantly behind you, muffled and distorted by the beating rain and your delirious fear. The deep, throatey yells of wordless obscenity rang in your ears and pulsing head, forcing you to run faster.  
  
You pushed your numb legs forward desperately, pleading for your limbs to comply while not really having any idea of where you were going. The several cuts lacing your neck, arms, legs, and ankles throbbed painfully with each step, the pattering rain stinging the open wounds with every miniscule splash.  
  
You dared to look back at your pursuers, your wet, untidy _________(your hair color here) hair slapping your face like mini whips, and your _________(your eye color here) eyes wide with panic. The rain splashed into your eyes and blurred your vision; you could not make out the figures chasing you anymore. But it did not change the fact that they were still chasing you.  
  
Why? Why were they following you? What had you done? What did you possess that they desired? Your mind frantically searched for answers in the very corner of your thoughts, as the majority of your thinking space was filled with pure horror and adrenaline. But it was no use, all you could remember was running. It was as if you were someone who had dozed off while doing something important: you could not remember the fact that you had lost conciousness, nor could you recall that space in time when you had slept. You were all of a sudden forced back to the world, lost in confusion while you were expected to be taking part in something.  
  
Your ankle, most likely broken, (How did it break? What did I do? Where did all these scratches come from??)was threatening to collapse as you ran, twinging in pain every moment your feet thudded dully on the sopping pavement.  
  
Suddenly, there was a deafening shot behind you, by far loud enough to momentarily and completely drown out the rain, and a white hot, blinding pain shrieked into your shoulder, blotting out thought entirely. You screamed shrilly, still running, and clutched the new bullet wound, which was already gushing blood. It flowed freely from your tank top and slopped all over your hand, falling in small droplets onto the ground. Another shot fired and the back of your calf erupted in agony as well. You tried to keep running,(Have to keep running, have to)but collapsed with a choking gasp to the wet asphalt, the dampness of the street soaking through your shirt, mixing with the rich crimson of your wounds.  
  
Your eyes squeezed painfully shut, and half of you wanted to just lie there,(Why not? Stop running, it only hurts, it's nice here.......)but the last logical bit of you shrieked to get up, to continue running (Get up!! They'll get you!)They'd get you.....  
  
Your eyes snapped open, and you forced your self up, yelping quietly as you ripped the tissue of your wounds open ever more.  
  
(Please, just leave me alone...)  
  
You were becoming mindless in fear and panic and pain. You stumbled heavily and got up and continued to run, your sobbing, ragged pants echoing with no return off the dark, quiet houses.  
  
The pain in your shoulder was screaming the white-hot pain again; your mind was quickly numbing what little coherent thought you had left. (It hurts......It hurts so much.)The tears streamed endlessly down your cheeks as continued to scream mentally, (Leave me alone!! Leave me alone!! Just leave me alone!!!!)  
  
All of a sudden a sharp cry sounded behind you, you were brave enough to halt and look back. One of your pursuers lay dead on the wet, rainy pavement, a large hole gaping mutely in his back, blood and what appeared to be intestines spilling onto the ground.  
  
Taking the opportunity to make your escape now that "they" were distracted you quickly and as quietly as possible limped into a dark, nearby alley, falling in a bloody, exhausted heap in a far corner.  
  
You curled into a shivering ball and closed your eyes, trying to hold back your whimpers as you heard more dying screams outside.  
  
Your clothes were soaked through, the fabric of your shirt and pants engulfing the wounds still flowing blood. You heard approaching footsteps, and tried to open your eyes. (Leave me......alone.......please....just--)Your vision grew gray around the edges, and you managed to give a soft whimper before closing your eyes and blacking out......  
  
***  
  
Me: Soo? Did you guys like it? I'll try to update this as soon as I can! ^__^  
  
Malik: Well, that wasn't so bad.  
  
Me: Just wait. :) Next chapter you actually meet the reader! And that'll begin the *I make smoochey noises*  
  
Malik: *growls and turns into Yami Malik*  
  
Me: Uh oh.....O___O  
  
Yami Malik: *gives a spine-tingling smirk*  
  
Me: *gulp* 


	2. A Tunnel With No Light

----Disclaimer----**sigh** I pestered and pestered the lawyers....but it was no use. **sniffles** They still won't let me own Yu-Gi-Oh!, "Wake Up", or you...--- -  
  
Me: **I have my headphones on, a Hoobastank song playing so loud it can be heard perfectly from a good ten feet away, I'm softly singing the lyrics** Tell me what it's for, make me understand it, I've been crawling in the dark, looking for the answer...  
  
Malik: **back to normal, he snaps my headphones off my head** Would you stop? Along with breaking my concentration, that infernal music has been causing some old foreign woman to keep calling you telling you to listen to the "Selena" CD's she sent you last year.  
  
Me: **I gulp at the mention of my mother, fearfully pulling my hat down over my blue hair as if she's about to burst in the door any minute and yell at me about it  
  
**Malik: **rolls his eyes** You're pathetic! Compared to what I can do to you, that little old Mexican woman is nothi—HEY, are you LISTENING?!  
  
Me: **I've already turned on my CD player again and am jamming to the Ogata Megumi version of "Homework Ga Owaranai**  
  
Malik: **slaps his forehead** Oi....

* * *

----Previously---- Your clothes were soaked through, the fabric of your shirt and pants engulfing the wounds still flowing blood. You heard approaching footsteps, and tried to open your eyes. (Leave me......alone.......please....just--)Your vision grew gray around the edges, and you managed to give a soft whimper before closing your eyes and blacking out......----  
  
CHAPTER 1  
  
You were in a tunnel. It was dark and cool, yet very cramped, and you had to crawl on your hands and knees along its dark expanse. The hole in the sand you had had to dig to get there was behind you, light of the creamy desert sun shining through and giving a bit of illumination of your stone passage. You weren't quite sure where you were going or why, but you knew that you wanted to go through this tunnel, regardless of the burning red scrapes you inflicted on your palms and shins. You blinked as your eyes got accustomed to the dark, ducking your head a bit as you accidentally brushed some dirt from the ceiling.  
  
Despite the light from the beginning of the tunnel, you could only see about five feet in front of you, and then all was inky black ahead, a giant gaping hole, a mouth of some monstrous beast ready to swallow you. Your determination wavered a bit; unease creeping down your spine, but you bit your inner cheek and carried on. The stone of the tunnel was getting cooler, smoother, it would be easier now. No reason not to continue.....  
  
You crawled and crawled, time was no object, all you kept telling yourself was that you would be there very soon, in only a few minutes, no doubt you would reach your destination very soon........  
  
All of a sudden, the hole, which you could still see distantly behind you, suddenly collapsed, the sand caving in and slumping over the light...plunging you into total darkness. ....  
  
You gave a choked gasp of surprise, all vision gone, and instinctively grabbed the wall for support as you lost your bearings completely. You were in the dark.....complete dark.........and something was in there with you. Sickening fear doused all over your, your insides ice cold in rising panic.  
  
Yes, something long dead, white and shrunken and reeking of rot......trapped in this very tunnel for who knew how long, alone....until now. It would claim you as its eternal companion..... As if on cue, a few pebbles several hundred feet down shifted. Your eyes widened further, scrambling back hurriedly, heart pumping and mind numbed with panic. Yes it was there....and so were voices.  
  
_(the axe is preferable to the hatchet, dear child, the mess is half the fun....)_  
  
_(how is a raven like a writing desk?)_  
  
_(oh dear, the stench of death is much too strong, perhaps more blood will perfume it?)_  
  
You continued to scurry backwards, panting and covered in cold sweat, head pounding as the voices became louder and louder.....  
  
_(End trails, how sweet---)_  
  
_(----Is the smell of rain, yes, my dear corpse?)  
_  
A pounding as well was growing more and more in volume by your ear, drawing steadily closer.  
  
BAM BAM.  
  
(_What a delicious mask....what delicious flesh, dear Margaret!)_  
  
_(I can smell your cunt!)  
_  
_BAM BAM.  
_  
_(YES! TAKE YOUR BEATING, WRETCHED ANIMAL!!)_  
  
Your pants began ragged sobs, you clutched at your head to try and make everything stop, but it only seemed to make the voices louder. The continuous pounding was suddenly so loud that you could actually find out where and what it was- it was on your wrist, a large brass clock dangling from a thick rope, slamming noise as it ticked.  
  
**(YES, DEAR , YOU SEE, THE CLOCK HAS BEEN TICKING FOR YOU FOR QUITE SOME TIME, AND YOU'RE ALMOST OUT OF TIME)  
**  
**(OUT OF TIME TO RUN, OUT OF TIME TO SCREAM!!!!!!!)**  
  
But you did scream. Long and shrill. Blindly, you swung the clock, in a desperate attempt to get it off your arm, as the rope had begun to tighten painfully. It whistled with silvery grace through the air, the cold metal practically cooling the air as it passed through it. The rope just kept getting tighter and tighter, until it was so tightly clamped onto your wrist that a clear trickle of blood ran down your pale and clammy forearm. You swung even more desperately, and suddenly there was a sharp cracking and unspeakable pain as your arm broke. You gave another scream, clutching your arm and collapsing to the ground, legs writhing in agony. The voices, as well as the ticking of the clock, were disappearing.....  
  
_(....drown softly in my darkness.....)  
_  
Tick.....tock.....  
  
You were given peace for only a moment, for then something came out the darkness, oozing and creeping from the blackness with unearthly moans and squelching sounds......Its shadow drooped lazily over the stone, practically leaving a stain....You let another sob escape your lips as you feebly scooted some two feet behind you before feeling your back bump up against the caved-in hole of sand. The figure looked down at you, a certain pleasure evident in its posture, as if it were feeding off your terror. The face was barely recognizable...practically all features shrouded in shadow, but one thing did stand out.  
  
A third eye..... No, that wasn't it, it was a mark of an eye, in a particularly Egyptian style, placed squarely on what should have been the forehead, glowing with an unexplainably eerie light, practically jeering at you. Cold, slimy fingers wrapped themselves around your throat as you were mesmerized by that false eye, slick thumbs over windpipe and fingers over neck vertebrae. You choked, the breath stolen from you, lifted from the ground so that your feet dangled a few good feet (_what.....?the tunnel.....is bigger....)_ off the floor. Your hands gripped weakly at the wet skin clamped onto yours, failing to pry those fingers from your neck. The life was leaving you, you could feel it seeping from your very pores and being sucked into this....this thing.  
  
As you felt your last few breaths ebbing away, the creature slowly lifted its head and looked straight at you..... and if you could have screamed, you would have screamed the loudest you ever had.  
  
The thing.....was _you._  
  
Its face—your face—was shrunken and discolored, rotted and fleshy. Your hair hung in wiry patches over your scabbed scalp, blood dripping down the majority of the strands. Your lips were deathly white, large yellow teeth poking over them, several missing or rotted. Those eyes, milky white and dead, looked straight into yours as you watched with muted horror, and that horrid mouth slowly opened....wider and wider and wider until it was so large it wasn't even humanly possible, and gave an earsplitting, unworldy shriek, and snapped your neck before you could so much utter a sound..

"NOOOOOOO!!!!" You shot up into a sitting position, your eyes clamped shut and your hands desperately gripping your bangs and scalp. Your eyes burned with horrified tears, your skin cold and sweaty. You tried to control your almost hysteric breaths, but to no avail, and you bent forward and buried your face into what felt like satin sheets.  
  
A voice somewhere nearby you, not particularly pleasant, said, "Oi! Shut her up! She's gonna break my eardrums with all of that wailing!"  
  
Another voice, just as throatey and uncomforting, "You! Girl! Oh do stop that, you insolent brat!" A hand forcefully pried you up out of the blankets while the other slapped you hard across the face, silencing your sobs as you gripped your reddening cheek. Already, the details of that horrible, horrible dream was fading away. You halfheartedly tried to grasp it back, but got nothing other than the fact that it had been unimaginably terrible. You rose up your other hand and hurriedly wiped the tears, threatening to spill, away. You took a shuddering breath and looked up, now calm, at the room surrounding you.  
  
It was large, with dark gray walls and a heavy mahogany door and curtained windows. A large dresser stood gracefully in corner farthest from you, the sleek wood reflecting the light shining from the light fixture above you.  
  
There were four men in the room with you(_at least I think they are...),_ all of them wearing long, flowing purple cloaks, long hoods drooping over the eyes of two of the men. One stood nearby the dresser, his hood up and a sour look of irritation on his face. Another stood right beside your bedside, the one who had slapped you, his hood up as well and his mouth in a stern line. As quickly as you could, you averted your gaze away from them and turned to the other two, who had their hoods down. One towered over you_(how tall is this guy? He looks about 6'11" or_ _something!),_ large and tan, a long black ponytail sliding past the nape of his neck, intricate Egyptian symbols covering the left side of his face(_Wait a minute, Egyptian? Wasn't that in my nightmare....? No, never mind, I'd rather not think of it...)_ , a serious yet curious look of speculation upon his features. And the other one.....  
  
Your eyes widened a fraction at the sight of him. _(W-wow!)_ His skin was a soft toffee brown, lighter than the taller one's, with a very fine complexion and high cheekbones. Soft, metallic blonde hair framed his face. His eyes were arched with long, thick lashes.....and his eyes....were a striking lavender shade, deep and liquidate. They danced....with practically a bitter light, that of someone who could've been treated better by the world. They frightened yet compelled you. As you realized he was staring you as you were him, you flusteredly brought your gaze away and stared fixedly at your hands.  
  
"W-where am I? What happened?" you croaked.  
  
The blonde one gave a decidedly cruel smirk at your question, turned around, motioned to the tall one, and the two left the room. The hooded one next to you said, "We found you curled up like some mangy stray in the alley downtown Domino. You were injured. What were you doing? Why did they chase you?"  
  
You gulped and looked away again.....you couldn't remember. Not at all.  
  
"I-I don't know...."  
  
The man nearby you looked as if he were ready to smack you again, but just gave a threatening glare. "Fine, you won't tell me, but I doubt it's that important. A servant is a servant for Malik-sama."  
  
"Malik-sama?"  
  
"Yes, stupid woman, the great Malik-sama. He was the one you were so witlessly gawking at."  
  
You flushed a bit but tried to cover it with a furrow of your brow. "W- wait....a servant? You mean I have to work here?"  
  
The man near the dresser finally spoke up, "I don't know what Malik-sama sees in taking in this one." He cast a skeptical glance at the bandages on your shoulder and leg, "We don't need some weak inadequate needing to be taken care of."  
  
His companion nodded, obviously sharing the same sentiments. "You'll be given a few days to heal, then you'll be expected to work like the rest of us. And don't even let the thought of escape cross your mind, because we will find you, and when we do, you'll wish you were full of holes back in that alley." With that, the two left, leaving you alone.  
  
You gulped, wondering if it would be any safer here than it had been out there.

* * *

Me: **I'm sniffling in mourning, kneeling next to the shattered pieces of my CD player** Malik, you jerk! You didn't have to destroy it!  
  
Malik: **smirks and pays me no mind**  
  
Me: **I'm about to go at him, but then change my mind** Well, anyway, minna- san, I hope you liked it! Thank you so much for all your reviews!   
  
Malik: **is busy doing something, his back turned to me**  
  
Me: **I get suspicious** What are you doing.....?   
  
Malik: **chuckles, conveniently turning just enough so I see that his Sennen Rod is glowing.....  
  
**Me: OO This can't be good.....  
  
_Now, be a good little reader and press that button that says "Submit Review." C'mon. Do it. I'll give you a cookie! :D _


	3. Dark Ponderings

----Disclaimer----The probability of me owning Yu-Gi-Oh!, "Wake Up", and you is pretty much equal to that of an army of Dark Magician Girls taking over the world and turning it into a giant creampuff factory. So needless to say, it will never happen.----  
  
_Cookies go to: devil-62, miyako 14, White Fanged Wolf, Shayba, Akiko, lunar-wolf(), and marinaaurora. Thank you so much for your reviews! tosses Jumbo Cookies at everyone, getting both cheers of delight and moans of pain as the cookies hit some people in the face o.o;;_  
  
Me: **my eyes are dull and blank, and my voice has no emotion whatsoever** Thank you....for the reviews....but I've noticed what a horrible story this really is, and I've decided to discontinue it.....and you people are idiots for even considering reading it in the first place. So go away.  
  
Malik: **sitting nearby, smirking, his Sennen Rod glowing**  
  
**Yami Bakura casually strolls in  
**  
Yami Bakura: **he gives a familiar glance to Malik, but then looks in my direction** Mind controlling another authoress? **he suggestively looks me up and down**  
  
Me: **I suddenly snap out of it, my eyes regaining their light, and I slap Malik across the face** Malik, you ass! How dare you mind control me! Even Hiei's never pulled that crap! :(  
  
**Bakura laughs, obviously very amused, but the blonde Egyptian in front of me just gives me a hateful, frightening glare**  
  
_Reminder: Please remember that this fic is rated 'R'. This chapter, along with the rest of this fic, will have graphic violence and some things that younger readers might be disturbed by. This chapter is not as bad as the last, but I still advise those who think this is just another innocent CYOA to be careful. _

_

* * *

_  
----Previously---- His companion nodded, obviously sharing the same sentiments. "You'll be given a few days to heal, then you'll be expected to work like the rest of us. And don't even let the thought of escape cross your mind, because we will find you, and when we do, you'll wish you were full of holes back in that alley." With that, the two left, leaving you alone.  
  
You gulped, wondering if it would be any safer here than it had been out there.----  
  
**CHAPTER 2  
**  
For the majority of that morning, all you could do was lay in your bed and rest, the concept of time abandoning you as you slept. There were times when it finally registered in your mind that you had been staring at the ceiling and not even realizing.  
  
Once, as you felt your eyelids slowly slipping closed, you were jerked awake by a loud _Tick!_ sound. You jerked up and awake, yelping in surprise and looking around in practically hysterics, half fearing it was them _(Oh shit it's them it's them and their_ **guns**_)_. But in fact, it was a clock, ticking with stern disapproval from the opposite wall, the dim light from your ceiling catching its copper frame and making it seem to practically glow. You felt unease creeping up your spine, your pulse and heartbeat quickening and the hairs on your neck standing up, unplaced familiarity seeping through the cracks of your fragile mind..Some unknown time later, you shakily got up and took the damn thing down off the wall, stowing it with fearfully harsh movements into the mothball reeking dresser.  
  
It was still raining, the drops hitting the grimy window like bullet shells, only adding to your pounding headache...thunder boomed occasionally, loud and ominous, as if a warning as to what was to come for you... Now that you thought you about it, this could very well be a kidnapping, no, it's not like you could think of anyone who would bother to try and get you back, so what was this? What did they want with you? Who were these people? More importantly, who were _you_? You hardly knew anything about yourself, save your name. Who were you? How were you supposed to feel? How were you supposed to act? Who were you? The rain was still pouring outside, and you looked out the window vaguely, muttering almost mutely, "The heavens are crying..."  
  
And what about you? Could you cry? Were you even capable? You vaguely remembered crying when you were running but that was all very hazy, and even then it was merely pain tears. Could you shed a single emotional tear anymore? Nothing better to do, you experimentally squinted your eyes and tried to concentrate hard on something sorrowful. It didn't work. After all, how could you recall anything distressing when you hardly remember anything before yesterday? Your brow furrowed. You couldn't cry. You couldn't feel sad. Aside from this fear, you half-doubted you could feel at all..._(Can't shed a lone tear. Are you even human at all?)_ This thought caused such a great agonizing pressure in your chest that you could only let loose a small yelp before you fell back on the pillows, time and thought dissolving for a few more hours...  
  
When you next came to, there was a loud and irritated knocking at your door. Shakily pushing yourself up on your elbows, you throatily told whomever it was to come in. The door creaked shrilly open and a cloaked, hooded, and very stern-faced woman bustled in, her voice just as grating and lifeless as the two men before. She muttered about it being about time, and then quickly grabbed your wrist and yanked off the now clean tank-top of yours. You made a gasp, animalistic terror and nervous instinct roaring to the top of your thoughts; your eyes growing wide as you instinctively squirmed. The woman just gave you a hard pinch on your good shoulder and set about changing the bandages on your shoulder and leg, pinching or slapping whenever you whimpered or fought her at all. She then left, leaving you sorer than you were to begin with.  
  
This was not pleasant. A sick feeling of dread was settling in your stomach, your skin was getting goosebumps....something was definitely going to happen...something that you could not control. Not the fact that you would be stuck here for who knew how long...something else. Helplessness and trepidation washed over you, your fist on the sheets clenched. Damn it, what was going to happen to you?  
  
You needed something to do...anything, but obviously that wouldn't be happening, as there was nothing in here other than "your" bed and dresser. Nothing to do but sleep and think. _(I don't_ _want to think anymore, it's only making things worse)_ You just wanted something to busy your hands...but for how long? How long until someone came to see you? How long until you healed? What would you do _after_ you healed? How long would you have to stay here?  
  
_(Who am I?)  
_  
Eventually the rain cleared up, the dark, angry clouds departing like some vanquished yet grudging beast, the rumbles still carrying off for some distance. You passed the time by examining the shape your body was in. Your bad shoulder was bandaged so tightly it was going numb, already scarlet with blood_(My blood...),_ as was your leg. But what intrigued you most, were the rest of the marrs on your body. Large yellow-green bruises dappled your legs; you could have posed as a leopard with the numerous spots. Countless old, graying cut scars criss-crossed your upper arms as if they were a playing board. There were so many other cuts....  
  
_(What happened to me?! That blonde one didn't--!)_  
  
But, no, all of these were much too old to have been inflicted anytime recently. Had you been here longer than you were told? Even if he had been the one to make you like this, why? Hadn't it been made clear that you were meant to _heal_? If he didn't, then who did? Had those people who chased you done this to you? If they did, what else did they do? _Had you done this to yourself?  
_  
Overwhelmed, you stumbled out of bed, hitting your bad leg on the corner in the process, and ran to the door. It was locked. That was it. You began pounding your fists on the rotted door, and screaming in a hoarse voice, "Let me OUT! Let me out of here!! Let me go!!" Your stomach gave a painful heave and you brought your hand to your mouth, temporarily pausing your screams as harsh, cutting coughs ripped through your throat. The room was beginning to swim. Something wet and warm touched your hand, and you brought it away, vision clearing just enough to see a trickle of blood falling from your mouth and splattering on the floor. Something else flickered in that pool of crimson, a reflection that was not your own, only for a moment. Fleetingly stopping your coughing, you brought your head closer to the ground and were able to see, for a second, a flash of a now familiar face. The Nightmare You. The dead you. The dead eyes stared up at you, shrunken head tilted slightly, mouth wide open and writhing with maggots...  
  
Revolted and horrified you roughly shoved yourself away, landing painfully on your bad leg again. The thought of that mouth flashing through your mind, you turned your head and vomited.  
  
----  
  
A few minutes later, when the stern faced woman entered your room, drawn by your wretched screams, you had long since crawled up into a corner, your eyes wide and blank. She re-bandaged you, (_What was that look for_? You thought to yourself as she gave a strange look of astonishment after catching sight of your wounds), and then once her long stream of foreign curses and a good slap across the face snapped you out of it, you were left alone to scrub up your mess. You were trembly and weak, having had no food for who knew how long and losing whatever you had. Your hands were a pale blotchey hue, and when you caught sight of yourself in an old cracked mirror beside your bed, you couldn't help but wrinkle your nose. You of course, had no memory of ever seeing your reflection_ (my_ **real** _not-dead reflection),_ but surely you looked better than this!  
  
Your hair was frayed and ratted, far paler and unhealthy than even you knew it should have been. Your cheekbones were sunken and your skin ashey and sallow, your eyes deep in your skull, wide and pale as mouse's. Did you always look this horrid, or was it just the stress you had suffered in the past 48 hours?  
  
_(The blonde one saw me like **this**?)  
_  
You mentally cursed as you doused your wet rag in the soapy bucket beside you, now looking away from the mirror and glowering at the floor. _(Can we say, "mood swings"?)_ Frowning, you slowly set the rag down, and simply sat there. This was already going well. Your eyes slowly closed, your shoulders slumping with exhaustion. All of a sudden you heard voices...(_Voices?! No! Not again!!)_  
  
But it wasn't the terrible voices from your nightmare. It was the voice of the stern-faced woman and someone you didn't recognize, outside your door. Your frustration evaporating like steam, you inched to the door and put your ear to it.  
  
"It's so strange, Rishid-sama. Though the girl is more trouble than she's worth, she's healing amazingly. Just a few hours ago her wounds were still wide open and bleeding. When I bandaged her last, they were healed so much it was as though they had been haling for weeks."  
  
_(Rishid?)_ You pressed your ear closer to the wood and strained your hearing, as the next voice was low and soft.  
  
"I see. So she might be actually be..." His voice trailed off for a moment, but then picked up again. "Very well. Get her cleaned up and then notify me so I may speak to her."  
  
"Hai."  
  
There were echoing footsteps as the one called Rishid walked away, and as you saw the doorknob to your room turning you quickly scooted away and tried to pretend that you were still scrubbing. He woman looked down at you. "That's enough, girl, I'll take care of the rest later. Right now you have to get cleaned up to meet Rishid-sama, and you are absolutely wretched-looking."  
  
She instructed you to sit back on the bed, and as she began roughly brushing your hair out with a wet, wooden comb, your thoughts were elsewhere. So, it had already begun.

* * *

Me: **I'm now getting very scared as Malik stands up and advances on me, his glare losing none of its potency** O.O Uh-oh... Human Shield! **I quickly snag Shayba, one of my reviewers, and hold her up in front of me  
**  
Shayba: **looking quite ticked off** Put me down, weirdo!  
  
Me: Noooo! You must protect me from him! O.O  
  
Bakura: I doubt he'll have any trouble just getting rid of one of your reviewers and then moving on to you... .

Me: O.O;;

Shayba: O.O;; 


End file.
